Who Knows
by Reckless Lit
Summary: Paulie is sent on an errand for Iceberg and shit quickly blows up.


Promotion to Vice-President of Galley-La had it perks, Paulie couldn't deny that. The bump in respect did something to give the debt-collectors pause, and he couldn't really complain about the raise in his pay either. It said something that his mentor trusted him so much as to give him such an esteemed – and previously nonexistent – place within the company he'd spent his life building. Paulie had sworn to him an impromptu oath of eternal loyalty and gratitude for his show of faith, and, sitting here on the Puffing Tom, he didn't regret any of those words.

But a last-minute trip to some sailing conference four days from Water 7 wasn't precisely what he'd had in mind.

* * *

" _Why do **I** have to go? You've been telling everyone for weeks that you'll be gone for the conference. What could have possibly come up after all this warning?"_

" _Well, you see, it's actually quite simple." Iceburg had stood and walked to his office window rather dramatically, looking out over the city with a shadow across his face. "I decided I didn't want to go."_

" _THAT'S NOT A REASON."_

* * *

His fist tightened as he recalled the meeting. He would defend that man to the ends of the earth, but his antics were so childish he couldn't help wondering how he could possibly command so much respect. "Probably because he only does things like this to me," he mumbled under his breath, letting his head fall back.

"I'm sorry, young lady, but you'll have to find your family and take a seat." Paulie recognized the voice of the hostess and looked to see what was happening. A small girl stood in the middle of the aisle, her pink dress ending in ruffles about her knees, a small stuffed rabbit dangling from her grasp by the ear. Her hair was brown and done up in pigtails, and he scooted over to get a better look at her face. She was a cute enough kid, if he cared to notice such things, but the look on her face appeared completely disinterested in what was being said. Her blank gaze seemed to bore holes in the train's young staff woman.

"Can you tell me where your parents are?" she questioned nervously.

The blank expression turned slowly from the woman to him, and with a look of terror Paulie scrambled back into his window seat, though it was far too late to escape notice. The girl raised her free hand slowly, the wait more painstaking and dramatic than anything he'd ever known before, until she clenched a fist, leaving only her pointer finger extended, as if indicating him in some guilty plot. Anxiously, he pointed to himself with uncertainty, as if doing so might cause her to realize her mistake. "Oh! I'm so sorry, sir! Here's your little girl!" The hostess ushered the child in through the open door of his cabin and disappeared into another car rather hastily.

"OI, DON'T JUST LEAVE ME HERE WITH-" the young child stood, watching him with an impossibly detached expression. "...some..." He balked, his outrage completely evaporating. "...little..."

Well. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

"Look, kid, I don't know what game you're playing, but go find someone else to bother. I'm really busy-"

"You are the Vice-President of Galley-La, yes?"

"Eh?" he frowned at the girl, crossing his arms. Her voice was every bit a child's, but something about the way she spoke... it hinted to him that this was not a normal kid. "And just who the hell are you?"

She straightened and inclined slightly, an act befitting an esteemed businessman more than some squirt. "I am Nakaomi Grace. Secretary to the President of Sea and Sky Advancements Incorporated. I was sent here to ensure your safe arrival to the Shipwright's Conference and Exposition."

"Heh...?" his mouth fell open far enough that his cigar dropped into his lap. He hissed and stood, wiping away the ash and small embers. It had been enough to singe some of the fabric; he counted his good fortune that the suit was black. He stared at the kid, clearly processing her words. "How can _you_ be a secretary to anything? How old are you, eight?"

She scowled. "It's rude to ask a lady her age. Now if we could get to business-" The train screeched to a sudden halt, abrupt enough to knock them both to the ground. She was the first on her feet, peering around the cabin door and down the aisle. Paulie was much slower, sitting up and rubbing his head with irritation. Shouts were coming from the cars on either side of them.

"This isn't good," she observed aloud, turning to Paulie with a serious expression. "We have to get you off this train."

"Hold on. Just what is it you think you're going to do? You're a pipsqueak."

She shot him a silencing glare, moving past him and pointed her arm at the window. To Paulie's utter shock, her forearm split open to reveal a short barrel shotgun hiding inside. Her thumb was popped out at a weird angle and she pulled it back in a cocking motion before opening fire on the window. It blasted out in shattered fragments as shell casings and little sparks rained down on them.

"They will have heard that," she announced, clicking her arm back together. When Paulie didn't move, she growled and grabbed him by the collar. "Now isn't the time to gawk, idiot," she snapped, leaping through the window and with a surprising show of force dragging the shipwright behind her.

"Wait, my suitca-" Her force gagged him and cut his sentence short. He briefly noticed a small, empty rowboat tethered to the handrail just one car over before plunging into the water.


End file.
